Thnks fr the Mmrs
by campingwiththecharmings
Summary: (CS college AU) Emma has a falling out with her roommate and decides to crash a frat party to blow off some steam. She gets drunk and hooks up with a guy (3 guesses who). Hi-jinks ensue.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **So, I wrote smut? lmao I legit have no idea where the hell this came from but here it is (this is my first time writing anything like this, please be gentle) (pun intended).

(Un-beta'ed)

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><p>Emma Swan had very few things that belonged solely to her. Jumping around various foster homes and orphanages had resulted in her growing up having to share her clothes, her food, her space, and sometimes even her bed. So sharing a dorm room with one other girl shouldn't have been a big deal for her; and it hadn't been at first. Her roommate freshman year had been tolerable, likeable even. She and Emma hadn't exactly been close, but during their three years together, they'd become friendlier than Emma was with most people on campus (save for her two best, and admittedly only, friends Mary Margaret and David). But after their third year, the girl (Ruby had been her name) had decided to transfer to another school, resulting in Emma having to live with a complete stranger her senior year.<p>

At first, it'd been fine. The girl (Milah), was relatively quiet, organized, and mostly kept to herself. The worst thing she'd done the first six months they'd been rooming together was leave her desk lamp on as she an pulled an all-night study session (not an uncommon occurrence in college, especially when you were studying law, as Milah was). For a while, the two of them had co-existed quite nicely, everything had been fine.

That is, until Milah started seeing someone.

Suddenly, she was talking loudly on her phone until three in the morning, coming back to their room drunk in the middle of the week, and leaving her belongings all over the room. Emma did note, however, that she had enough decency to _not_ bring her new beau to their shared quarters and while she appreciated that, Milah's newfound habits were really starting to grate on her nerves. She got it, really she did. This is the sort of thing people _did_ in college. It wasn't as if she hadn't gotten smashed at a party or two in her three and half years here, or forgot to pick up after herself because she was just too _tired_. Maybe Emma had just had enough of sharing, maybe she was just ready to have something that was just _hers_, something that operated the way _she_ wanted it to.

_Just one semester left_, she reminded herself.

It was Friday, and Emma had had a rough week (ugh, _midterms_). She'd been looking forward to having a nice, quiet night in following her return from class that day, only to walk through the door and trip over the boots Milah had left there. After kicking them to her side of the room in annoyance, Emma had trudged over to her bed to set down her things, only to discover that several pieces of her roommate's clothing had taken up residence there. Now fuming, Emma gathered the various shirts, skirts, and pairs of pants in her arms and dumped them onto the floor where she'd kicked the shoes. And then Milah waltzed through the door, happy as a clam, completely oblivious to Emma's bubbling rage.

Needless to say, Emma had really laid into her. Weeks of bottled up anger came surging to the surface and twenty minutes later, Emma was grabbing her phone, her wallet, and her keys, and storming out into the hall.

So much for that "nice and quiet" evening.

Silently fuming, Emma marched down the stairs and into the cool, night air with no idea where she should go (because she sure as hell was _not_ going back in there for a while). Sighing, she unlocked her phone and dialed Mary Margaret with the intent vent.

"Hey, Emma," came the cheerful voice of her best friend after a couple of rings.

"Hey," she grumbled in response, aimlessly walking away from her building lest her roomie decided to leave as well (the _last_ thing she needed was to make a scene in the middle of the quad).

"You sound surlier than usual, everything okay?" Mary Margaret asked coolly.

"No," she spat, not paying attention to where her feet were carrying her, "I just had it out with Milah."

"I see," her friend began thoughtfully, "You wanna come over and talk about it?"

Emma ran her free hand through her hair and sighed as she continued walking, "No thanks."

"You sure?" Mary Margret asked, her tone placating, "David's coming over in a bit. We were going to have dinner and watch that movie he was talking about yesterday."

Emma allowed herself a small smile at that visual; Mary Margaret and David had met in their sophomore year and had been a couple ever since. It should've been annoying how perfect and adorable they were together, but for some reason it wasn't. Perhaps it was because they were the closest thing she had to a family.

"Sounds fun, later maybe," she said, her anger having ebbed somewhat as she traipsed down what she now realized was Greek Row. Their conversation came to a momentary halt as Emma's attention was drawn to the ruckus a few houses down; one of the fraternities appeared to be having quite the party (and it was only eight o'clock).

"Emma? You still there?" Mary Margaret asked, drawing her attention back to their conversation.

"Yeah, sorry," Emma said, making for the house throwing the party, "Look, I think I found somewhere to blow off some steam for a bit. Mind if I call you later about that movie?"

"Yeah, sure, do what you've gotta do, Ems," she responded enthusiastically before whispering, "Maybe find yourself a hottie, while you're at it."

Emma laughed suddenly in surprise, "Wow, Mary Margaret, are you suggesting I hit it and quit it?"

Mary Margaret snorted (God, they were both so immature sometimes), "I'll leave that up to you."

Emma laughed again in response as she came to a halt outside of the Kappa Delta Phi house.

"We'll see what happens," she said, pushing her hair behind her ear, "Hey, thanks for cheering up, Mary Margaret. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anytime, Emma," Mary Margaret said sweetly, "Call me later if you wanna join us, okay?"

Emma nodded despite the fact that her friend couldn't see her, "Will do."

Once she and Mary Margaret had said their goodbyes, Emma returned her phone to the back pocket of her jeans and turned her attention once more to the house; it was brick, had the typical Greek-style columns, but was a touch smaller in size than the rest of the houses on the block. Not that that made much of a difference; she was here for the party (and, most importantly, _the booze_) not the décor.

It occurred to her as she climbed the steps that this might be one of those private, "by invitation only" parties some of the fraternities and sororities had from time to time, but she figured there was no harm in trying to get in; the worst they could do was ask her to leave, which was no skin off her back.

The door was unlocked when she tried it so she pulled it open and walked inside. The slight stench of alcohol and sweat made her nose scrunch slightly as she maneuvered herself around the people loitering in the foyer. No one looked twice at her as she made for the kitchen that she hoped housed the refreshment she sought. She smiled triumphantly when she spotted the coolers lining the countertops. She wretched the closest one open, dug a can of beer from the ice, and popped the tab, relief and alcohol flooding her body. Maybe tonight would turn out alight after all.

A few hours later, Emma found herself in a situation with no idea how she'd gotten there. One minute, she was pleasantly buzzed and flirting with some cute, blond frat boy in the common area and the next, she was what could only be described as completely sloshed and shoving some scruffy, dark-haired guy up again the wall in a hall way upstairs. She heard his broken moan as she assaulted his neck with her mouth, felt his hands as they tangled in her hair, felt his hardness against her thigh as she pressed herself against him.

"Bloody hell," she heard him murmur as she mouthed her way down his neck, her hands sliding down his chest and coming to rest on his belt.

Emma pulled herself back slightly, giving herself the room she need to unbuckle it, when he suddenly caught her hands. Emma looked up at him in surprise and had time to register the disheveled state of his hair (when had she done that?) before he was pushing her up against the opposite wall and attacking her lips with his own. He tasted like rum and she closed her eyes, groaned, and wove her arms around his neck, fingers knotting themselves in his thick hair as his lean body pressed her into the wall. His hands were everywhere; snaking beneath her shirt and lightly caressing her curves, running through her hair, squeezing her ass.

He was playing her like a fine tuned instrument and, _holy shit_, she never wanted him to stop.

Without warning, he ripped his lips from her mouth and dragged them slowly down her neck, setting her skin aflame. She panted, breathless from his kiss and from the lust clouding her brain. One hand was still in his hair, the other braced on his shoulder when she found herself abruptly asking, "What was your name again?"

She felt him chuckle against her the skin of her throat as he slowly continued his descent, the scruff of his beard tickling her skin.

"Killian, love."

Emma bit back a whimper, his desire-ridden voice going straight to her groin.

"Emma," she told him breathily as he sucked on the skin above her collar bone. His body held her up as his left hand trailed down her stomach, flicked open the button of her jeans, and slipped inside.

She didn't even bother trying to stop the whimper that came when his thumb lightly circled her clit.

"Oh, God."

He chuckled again, his wicked mouth still working a dark bruise onto her neck, "Its Killian, darling, remember?"

Emma's laugh caught in her throat and turned into a breathy moan when he suddenly slipped a finger into her wet heat, his thumb continuing to circle her bundle of nerves.

"Gods," he growled into her neck, fingers working her slowly as she rocked her hips against his hand, "You're soaking, lass."

Emma moaned again, pulling Killian's mouth back up to her own. She swept her tongue along the seam of his lips and groaned when they parted and his tongue tangled with hers. The combination of his lips, his tongue, his scent, and his fingers drove her up the wall and when her orgasm crashed over her, it was without much of a warning. His fingers continued to stroke her as she rode it out, moaning into his mouth as she continued to kiss him, her walls fluttering around his fingers. They broke apart when her shuddering subsided, foreheads resting against each other as they fought to catch their breath.

Emma opened her eyes as Killian gingerly removed his hand from her jeans (which were now half way down her hips) and met his eyes, blown wide with lust. His lips were bruised and his hair was even more disheveled than it had been earlier. To put it mildly, he looked utterly and completely _wrecked_ (she was sure she looked just as bad, if not worse).

His darkened eyes searched her face hungrily and Emma's breath caught in her throat at the intensity she saw in them. She held his gaze as her hands slowly slipped down his chest, and when they fell to his belt this time, he didn't stop her. She swallowed and looked down as her hands clumsily unbuckled his belt and popped open the button of his jeans. She brought her eyes back to his when she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of boxers. Her hand encircled his length and she watched as his eyes fell shut in ecstasy, as his right arm moved to brace itself above her left shoulder, as he bit his lip before burying his face in her neck and groaning. He rocked into her hand and placed hot open-mouth kisses onto her neck as she stroked him, the swaying of his hips causing his pants to slip steadily down.

Even though she'd peaked, Emma found that she wasn't completely sated; the feel of him in her hand made her yearn to have him fill her. His head was still resting on her shoulder so she slowed her strokes and moved her mouth close to his ear.

"I want you."

She bit her lip as he answered her with a moan, lifting his head and meeting her eyes. Her hand stilled as they gazed at each other.

"Are you sure?" he asked sincerely.

She nodded and used the hand not wrapped around his length to push his jeans further down his hips. Once he knew she was sure, Killian wasted no time freeing her right leg from the confines of her pants and wrapping it around his hip. They groaned in unison when he entered her, their foreheads resting against each other once more as he filled her to the hilt. Emma closed her eyes and reveled in the stretch and burn and fullness that came with having him inside of her.

"Emma, _fuck_, you're so tight, love," he said, panting against her lips, his body trembling as he held himself back.

Emma wriggled against him in an effort to get him to _move, damn it_. When she realized he was holding back, she brought a hand to his face to get his attention.

"Fuck me," she told him, her voice laced with need, "_Please, Killian_."

That was all he needed to hear, apparently. Soon he was, quite literally, fucking her into the wall. They moaned and cursed and clung to each other as they chased their releases. Emma came first, the shockwaves ripping through her as suddenly as they had earlier, only this time with more force. The feel of her walls clenching around him sent Killian over moments later. Boneless and spent, he slipped out of her and the two of them slumped against the wall, attempting to catch their breath.

"Emma, that was—," Killian said, his breath fanning across her lips.

"A one-time thing," she finished, trying to swallow away the bad taste those words left in her mouth.

Killian studied her for a moment, before nodding. He threw her a sad-looking half smile and pulled away from her, "Right, of course."

They righted themselves and awkwardly eyed each other as they stood in the hall, suddenly shy despite the intimate act they'd just engaged in.

"Right, well, see you around, maybe?" Emma offered, shuffling her feet and stuffing her hands in her back pockets as if to keep them from touching him again.

Killian nodded and met her eyes as he moved to lean against the wall, "Yeah, maybe."

With that, Emma nodded and turned away from him. She forced herself to not look back as she reached the stairs (though a quick glance from the corner of her eye couldn't hurt, right?) and slowly descended. She moved sluggishly as she seemed to still be drunk to some degree and allowed herself to wonder how they hadn't been caught fucking in such a public place. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, she had her answer; everyone had either left or was passed out. She realized how late it must be and shakily made her way to the foyer and out the front door.

Somehow she managed to make it back to her dorm without killing herself. Milah was already asleep when she came in. Emma sighed, suddenly exhausted (rough sex with strangers will do that to a girl), and closed the door before moving through the darkness toward her side of the room. She fell onto bed, still fully dressed, and was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

When Emma woke the following morning, her first thought was about how her head felt like someone had hit it repeatedly with a baseball bat. Her second thought was that her mouth felt like a desert. Her _third_ thought of blue eyes, tousled hair, and a devastatingly handsome smile. Her eyes flew open at the last thought and she mentally berated herself. She was so close to graduating and starting her life, _her career_, she didn't need to get hung up on another guy, for Christ's sake.

Sighing, she rolled out of bed and squinted at the sun filtering through the window. Milah was thankfully not there (she so wasn't in a state to rehash their argument right now). A glance at her clock told her it was almost noon and Emma groaned before toeing off her boots and gathering the items she needed to take to the showers.

Thirty minutes later, Emma was clean and in a fresh pair of clothes. She sat on her bed with her back against the wall, a (very) strong cup of coffee in her hand, as she listened to Mary Margaret tell her about the movie she and David had watched. Emma was making plans to hang out with the two of them that night when the door to her room opened and Milah walked in. She stopped short when she spotted Emma, her hand resting on the door knob.

"Hey, do you mind if I call you back in a minute?" Emma asked her friend (who of course acquiesced).

Emma thanked her, hung up, and turned her attention to her roommate (who still hadn't fully entered the room).

"Hey," she said tentatively, moving to sit at the edge of her bed, "Um, look I just…I wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn't have blown up at you like that."

Milah shifted uncomfortably for a moment before shutting the door and crossing her arms over her chest, "It's fine, you…may have been right about certain things. I'm sorry too."

The two women nervously stared at each other for a moment before a knock at the door interrupted them.

"Oh, uh, that's my boyfriend," Milah said awkwardly, motioning toward the door.

Emma nodded, not knowing what else to do with this information, "Oh, okay."

Milah studied her for a moment before asking, "Did you maybe want to meet him? You know, since you're both here."

"Oh, um, yeah sure," Emma agreed, rising from her bed and smoothing out her shirt.

Milah nodded and moved to open the door as Emma stuffed her hands in her pockets.

_God, this is awkward._

She watched as her roommate happily greeted the man in the hall, the door still blocking him from Emma's view. When he stepped in to give her a quick hug and peck on the cheek, Emma saw him and almost had a heart attack.

_Holy shit, it's Killian_.

Her fucking roommate's _boyfriend_ is the guy she'd drunkenly banged at a party last night, _fuck her life_.

He hadn't seen her yet and Emma dreaded the moment he did. She watched Milah tell him that she wanted him to meet her roommate. She watched as a crooked smile lit up his stupidly handsome face (_God_, he looked even better in daylight, the bastard). She watched (in silent horror) as his head turned toward her, as his eyes met hers, as he _recognized_ her, as his face dropped, and _holy crap, did she wish she was invisible right now_.

"Killian, this is my roommate Emma. Emma, this is Killian," she heard Milah say, her eyes wide as she simply stared at the man before her.

He was the first to shake himself from the shock as he suddenly held out his hand to her and smiled amiably.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Emma."

Emma blinked at his hand for a moment before slowly reaching out to grasp it.

"You too…Killian," she managed, the feel of his skin on hers setting her aflame, just as it had last night (almost as if her body _knew_ it was him and was responding in kind).

She was so fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Okay, this is the final part (no seriously, I'm not writing anymore for this lol). I hope it's what you all wanted!

(Un-beta'ed)

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><p>Emma's brain screamed for her to<em> run, get out now<em> as she shook Killian's hand.

Killian, the hot guy she'd hooked up with at the frat party last night,_ the same hot guy that was apparently dating her freaking roommate_.

Emma swallowed thickly as Killian's hand loosened its hold on hers, signaling the end of their "introductory" handshake. She pulled it back toward herself then and cradled it in her left as though it had been injured, as though she'd been burned (and, hell, she kind of _had _been in a way) as she fought to keep her eyes glued to the wall behind Milah.

She was panicking. And if she didn't get out of this room soon, she was going to do something _else_ she regretted.

As soon as the attention had been directed away from her, she grabbed the shoes nearest to her and quickly slipped them on. Grabbing her phone from her bed and her keys from her bedside table, she made to walk out the door.

The door that Killian was still standing in front of.

Emma clenched her jaw in annoyance as his (stupidly gorgeous) blue eyes briefly met her green ones over her Milah's shoulder.

"I, uh, just remembered I have somewhere to be," she said suddenly, interrupting whatever the two of them had been talking about.

Milah, who didn't appear to suspect a thing, gave her a small smile and a nod of acknowledgement. Killian, however, had the nerve to actually look _disappointed_ (what the hell?).

"Oh well, it was lovely meeting you, Emma," he said, the breathy manner in which he uttered her name causing goose bumps to break out over her skin.

Emma only nodded in response before she fled the room as nonchalantly as was possible. A couple of minutes later, she was down the stairs and outside of her dormitory, leaning up against the brick wall trying to calm herself down.

She had no idea what to do, her mind was racing with all the terrible scenarios that this incident could spawn. It wasn't as if she'd never had a one-night stand before, but _this_? Unwittingly sleeping with her roommate's boyfriend? This was _completely_ new territory for her.

Still at a loss, but slightly more calm, Emma began to make her way down the sidewalk toward the on-campus apartments where Mary Margaret lived. If anyone could help her sort this out, it was her best friend.

Twenty minutes later, Emma was sitting on her friend's blue and green tartan couch nursing a mug of hot cocoa with cinnamon (Mary Margaret's favorite comfort beverage). Emma's leg bounced nervously as she told her friend everything; the argument with Milah, crashing the frat party, getting shit-faced, and, the crowning jewel, drunkenly fucking Killian in the upstairs hallway. Ever the dutiful friend, Mary Margaret said nothing as the blonde vented, merely nodding every now and then to show that she was listening.

When Emma had caught her up to the present, she sighed deeply and allowed herself to sink further into the couch.

"So," Emma implored, "What do you think I should do?"

Mary Margaret bit her lip as she considered Emma's dilemma, casually sipping every now and then from her mug of cocoa.

Emma zoned as she allowed her friend time to think, unbidden images of the night before replaying inside her brain (the feel of his lips on hers, the way he had felt pressed against her, _inside _of her). Emma squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, futilely trying to rid herself of these feelings, when she felt a comforting hand on her arm. The unexpected touch made her start, her mind racing back to reality as she met Mary Margaret's eyes.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Emma," she told her, smiling softly.

Emma briefly returned her smile and averted her gaze. "It sure doesn't feel that way," she said, raking her free hand through her hair.

"This is not your fault, Ems," Mary Margaret began, her tone resolved, "You had no way of knowing that this Killian guy was Milah's boyfriend. _He's_ the one at fault here. _He's_ the one that decided to cheat on her."

Emma took a deep breath and nodded; Mary Margaret was right, of course. Her memory of the night before was still pretty hazy (except for the part with the amazing sex; that was something she seemingly _couldn't_ forget), but at the end of the day, no one had forced Killian to fool around with someone other than his girlfriend. This was on him.

Problem was, if or when Milah found out, they were _both_ going to be blamed. Ugh, _God_, this was such a stupid mess. She had just been looking for a good time, had just been looking to blow off some steam, and now she was going to get punished for it? Ridiculous.

Emma spent the rest of the afternoon binge watching 80s movies with Mary Margaret. They were halfway through their third film when there was a knock at the door. Mary Margaret handed Emma the massive bowl of popcorn the two of them had been munching on for the last hour and jumped up from the couch to answer it. Emma stuffed a handful of the delicious snack into her mouth as the door opened to reveal her other best friend David.

A smile blossomed across his face as soon as his eyes fell on his girlfriend (God, they were such _saps_).

Emma half-heartedly rolled her eyes as the two of them greeted each other with a hug and a lingering kiss. "Hey, David," Emma called from the couch, reminding them that she was in the room.

They broke apart, matching blushes gracing their cheeks. "Hey, Emma," David replied, rubbing the back of his neck and walking away from the door so his girlfriend could close it.

David ambled over to the couch and sat next to Emma, stealing some popcorn from the bowl in her lap and looking at the television. "_Sixteen Candles_, huh?" He said knowingly, "Rough day?"

Emma threw him a glare that said 'I don't wanna talk about it' and turned her attention back to the movie. She saw David and Mary Margaret share a look out of the corner of her eye and knew they were partaking in one of those wordless conversations they always seemed to have. Mary Margaret joined them on the couch shortly thereafter, squeezing in between David and the armrest, and the three of them silently watched the rest of the movie.

By the time six o'clock rolled around Mary Margaret started talking about dinner and Emma began to feel like she'd probably overstayed her welcome (they'd never ask her to leave, of course, they were too good a friends to do something like that).

"I should probably get going, give you two some alone time," she said, rising from the couch and collecting her belongings. Mary Margaret and David all but pleaded with her to stay, telling her that _of course_ she was welcome to stay for dinner and how they _certainly_ didn't want her to go. Emma smiled and tried to alleviate any guilt they might've felt (they were _always_ taking care of her, the _least_ she could do was let them take care of themselves for one night). She assured them that she was 'fine' and was looking forward to finally having that quiet night in. Thanking them for their company and hospitality (and sending Mary Margaret a wordless 'thank you' for their talk earlier), Emma left them to their own devices.

Emma yawned as she lumbered down the stairs, carding her fingers through her hair to rid it of its knots and pulling it into a messy ponytail. When she reached the lot outside of the apartment building, she stopped and heaved a sigh, the idea of going back to her dorm no longer appealing (she didn't think she could handle it if _they_ were still there).

The sun was beginning to set as she strolled aimlessly around campus, lost in her thoughts. She'd come to realize that her problem with this whole Killian _thing_ had mostly to do with the fact that he'd cheated on his girlfriend and less to do with the fact that his girlfriend was her roommate; Emma didn't like liars, and cheaters were the worst kind. Her mind kept reminding her of how much she'd enjoyed her time with him, though, and it hadn't just been about the sex. There had been something _more_ there when they'd been together, some kind of connection. Maybe it had just been the alcohol, or the blinding lust; maybe she was making more out of something that was actually nothing.

She didn't know what to think.

Having forgotten her jacket when she'd left that afternoon, Emma decided to head back to her room when it started getting colder. The common room of her building was practically empty when she walked through its front doors (everyone was most likely at dinner). She hoped her room was just as empty as she plodded up the stairs and down the hallway. She stood before her door for a few seconds before hesitantly inserting her key and turning it in the lock.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she was greeted with darkness, crossing the threshold and flicking the light switch to her left.

She heard a sharp intake of breath when she did so causing her head to immediately swing toward Milah's side of the room. There was her roommate, sitting on her bed, comforter wrapped around her shoulders, box of tissues in her lap, her face puffy and stained with tears.

_Oh shit_, thought Emma as she took in her startling appearance.

"Hey," she said tentatively, "I, uh, didn't realize you were here what with the lights being off."

Milah wasn't even looking at her, too consumed in her sadness apparently. Emma bit her lip and took a few hesitant steps in her direction.

"Are…you okay?" she asked, knowing perfectly well that the answer was no.

Milah started then, as if she had only just noticed Emma's presence. She sniffed and tiredly held Emma's gaze. "Killian broke up with me," she said flatly.

Emma swallowed thickly and sat down at the end of her roommate's bed. "That's awful, Milah, I'm so sorry."

Milah sniffed sadly and looked down at the rumpled tissue in her hands, "Yeah," she said, her voice thick with congestion, "We weren't together long but…I really thought he could've been the One, you know?"

Emma nodded morosely, her mind racing. He hadn't broken up with Milah because he thought he had a chance with her, had he? Did he tell her that he'd slept with someone else? Did he tell her _who_ he'd slept with?

Milah started crying again as this thought crossed Emma's mind. "He told me that he slept with another woman," she sobbed, burying her face with the tissue in her hands.

Guilt swept through Emma as she watched the woman in front of her break. She hadn't wanted this, damn it, she'd just wanted to get laid and now she inadvertently had a hand in breaking this poor woman's heart. Life was so unfair.

Emma shifted closer to Milah on her bed and cautiously touched her shoulder in comfort. She looked up then, her gray, bloodshot eyes meeting Emma's green, and she smiled tremulously in thanks. They sat together silently for a while as a Milah collected herself, willing her tears to stop falling.

"So," Emma began tentatively as Milah's breathing became normal once more, "He...broke up with you because he slept with someone else?"

Milah swallowed and shook her head. "No," she said, pushing her a brown curl off of her face, "He said he had been meaning to end things for a while, that this…other girl had just reminded him why."

Emma's heart rate escalated slightly as Milah continued to tell her about what Killian had said; that he'd enjoyed spending time with her, but had never really felt anything more than friendship for her, that he'd been denying his lack of romantic interest because he hadn't wanted to hurt her, that he cared about her but he just couldn't love her the way she deserved. Talking about their conversation seemed to bring an odd calm over Milah, it was almost as if repeating his words had made her understand them better, had helped her accept them.

Milah sighed deeply and, to Emma's surprise, chuckled. "We hadn't even slept together yet, that's how not-serious we were. I probably should've seen this coming."

"Hey," Emma said, resting her hand on Milah's arm just as Mary Margaret had done for her this afternoon, "Don't be so hard on yourself. Sure, maybe there were signs that you missed but…you were _happy_. No one can blame you for not wanting to give that up."

Milah smiled and nodded as she met Emma's eyes again, "Thanks, Emma."

The two of them spent the rest of the night bonding over pizza and fell asleep watching some sappy old chick flick.

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><p>She was lying on her side in a bed that wasn't hers in a room she didn't recognize and, as she sleepily came to, she realized that she was completely naked. She felt someone's breath on her neck, felt a hand lightly tracing indistinguishable patterns onto her back, felt the warmth of them along the length of her body. Lips brushed her shoulder as she sighed deeply in contentment, squinting at the sunlight that barraged her eyes when she opened them. The lips continued pressing soft kisses down her arm as she shifted and moved the roll onto her back, her eyes falling closed again. A hand pushed her hair back as the lips leisurely shifted to her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in its wake. Her eyes were still closed, savoring the sensations this person was giving her, as she moved to knot her fingers in their hair. She panted as the lips kissed up her jaw and latched themselves onto her mouth, a tongue swiping across the seam of her lips. She parted them and tangled her tongue with theirs, moaning into the mouth currently kissing her senseless. Her eyes flew open when a familiar chuckle met her ears; <em>Killian<em>.

Emma woke with a jolt, panting and flushed. It had been weeks since their drunken hook up, weeks since he'd broken up with her roommate, _weeks_ and here she was still thinking about him, _dreaming_ about him. Emma huffed and combed her fingers through her hair in agitation.

_He wasn't _that_ good_, she lied to herself, swinging her legs over the side of her bed and gathering her toiletries. She showered, put her hair in a ponytail, and threw on something comfortable (a pair of yoga pants and loose t-shirt) before gathering up her some textbooks and notebooks in her bag, and heading to the library, breakfast and coffee in her hands. It was Saturday and while she didn't usually make a habit of coming here on weekends, she had a paper due next week that she still needed to do research for. It was early and the library was more or less vacant as she climbed the stairs to the third floor and commandeered a table in the back corner. She worked for hours and by the time noon rolled around, she decided she had enough references and packed up her belongings.

Her phone vibrated on her way out the door and she hurriedly shifted the books she was carrying to answer it. It turned out to be Mary Margaret asking her over for dinner tomorrow night (David was trying out a new dish for his culinary class and wanted them to be his test subjects). Emma agreed and chatted idly with her friend before hanging up. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as she struggled to stuff her phone back into her bag, only to have some ass hole on a skateboard clip her on his way by, successfully knocking the books out of her hands.

Emma glared daggers at the back of his head as he rolled away as though nothing had happened, biting back the obscenities threatening to escape her. She huffed in annoyance and moved to pick up her things, when she realized someone was already do that for her.

_Shit, it's Killian_.

Her eyes widened as she stared at him, still as handsome as ever, the bastard. He wasn't looking at her, too focused on restacking her books. She should push him away and do it herself, or at the very least be helping him out, but all she can do is stare. She watched as he unconsciously licked his lips and grabbed the now restacked pile of books before rising. His smile faltered when his eyes met hers.

"Emma," he breathed, clearly just as surprised as she was.

"Hey," Emma said uncomfortably as she gestured to her books still in his hands, "Uh, thanks."

Killian started and looked down at the stack in his arms, "Oh, you're welcome," he responded, moving to hand them to her.

Emma failed to repress the shiver that ran through her when their arms and hands brushed each other as he shifted the books into her arms. She swallowed and backed away quickly, putting some distance between them. Killian eyed her curiously, his head tilting slightly to the side.

"So," Emma began, feeling exceedingly awkward, "How have you been?"

Ceasing his perusal of her, he replied, "Alright, thanks. How…are you?"

"I'm…great. Just great," she said, nodding emphatically as if the action made her response more believable.

Killian nodded and muttered, "Good, good," as he tried and failed to look anywhere but at her.

"Look," he started, nervously raking a hand through his hair, "I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I was about all that…stuff with Milah."

"Oh, that," she said, waving him off, "Yeah, she's fine. Already seeing another guy, actually."

Killian nodded, a small smile gracing his lips, "That's wonderful to hear, truly."

Silence fell between them and Emma shifted uncomfortably, the heavy books in her arms weighing her down. "Well, it was nice running into you," she said, moving to walk away, "I should go, lots of homework to do."

"On a Saturday?" Killian chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

Emma felt a blush rise to her cheeks, his laughter reminding her of the dream she'd been jolted out of that morning.

"It's for a paper I have due next week in Marine Bio and there are a lot of details I'm not really familiar with…I just don't want to screw it up, you know?" she replied, struggling not to get lost in the depths of his eyes (and she thought Mary Margaret and David were saps, _God_).

"Oh, well, my major is actually Marine Biology. I could help you…if you wanted," he offered, hand raising to scratch the space behind his right ear.

"Really?" Emma questioned, her mind refocusing on her school work and pushing the awkwardness with Killian to the back of itself.

"Of course," he responded, confidence returning to his eyes, "It'd be my pleasure."

Emma offered him a small smile and asked, "Are you free now by any chance?"

"I am indeed," Killian answered eagerly, returning her smile with one of his own.

"Great," she replied, heart stuttering in her chest (she was so screwed), "I…don't think my dorm is the best idea though."

Killian nodded and looked at the sidewalk, "Yeah, probably not," he said, biting his lower lip, "Library, perhaps?"

Emma groaned at the thought, "I just came from there, it's _packed_. There's no way we'll ever get a table."

"Ah," said Killian, furrowing his brow in thought as Emma looked around the courtyard for an empty table.

"You know," he started, scratching behind his ear again, "We could…I mean, my place is close. And my roommate's gone home for the weekend so it'll be quiet."

Emma realized that being alone with him had the potential to lead to something that was decidedly _not_ writing her Marine Bio paper, but she really could use the help. Besides, Killian didn't strike her as the kind of guy that would try and force himself on her; if anything happened, it was probably going to have to be her move. Satisfied with her reasoning, she nodded and told him, "That's a great idea."

Relief flooded his face at her response, clearly thrilled that she hadn't taken his suggestion the wrong way. "Brilliant," he said, looping his thumbs under the backpack straps on his shoulders.

"Lead the way," Emma said, walking toward him.

He smiled, nodding as he gestured in the direction of his apartment (which appeared to be in the same complex as Mary Margaret's) (how she hadn't run into him there, she didn't know).

Fifteen minutes later, they were at his kitchen table, her materials spread across its surface. Emma explained her paper's thesis to Killian and allowed him read what she'd written thus far. He looked over her notes and told her which references we good, which ones weren't, and which ones she should look into that would help with her chosen subject. They worked for hours, only pulled from their concentration when Killian's stomach growled.

He laughed and ran a hand over his face, "Sorry."

Emma held back a laugh and looked at the clock perched on the wall by the refrigerator. "Wow, it's later than I'd realized," she said, disappointment rushing through her.

"Well, the way I see it, we could either call it a night or," Killian said, walking into the kitchen and returning with various take-out and delivery menus, "we could take a break, refuel, and keep going. What do you say, Swan?"

Emma bit her lip as she looked from his face to the menus in his hand, noting the hopeful look in his eyes. She had to admit that she wasn't ready to leave. He was helping her, yes, but she was also getting to know him (as was he with her). He was more than just a one-night stand now and it should scare her, but Emma found that it didn't. Curious.

"Let's go with the latter," she said, throwing him a smile as she waltzed over and grabbed a menu from the stack in his hands.

They ended up deciding on Chinese and thirty minutes later were settled on the couch in his den watching Jeopardy. They shared sesame chicken and spring rolls and Emma taught Killian how to hold the chopsticks properly (though he still couldn't pick anything up with them) and before either of them knew it, they were watching some boring cable movie and falling asleep on the couch.

* * *

><p>Emma woke with a start; the room was dark, the only light coming from the television screen. She shifted, remembering that she was at Killian's apartment, that this was his couch…and that she was sleeping on top of him. Her eyes widened as she swiveled her head in his direction; he was still sleeping. She sighed with relief and slowly moved to get off of him only to find that his arm was wrapped around her, preventing her escape. She frowned in frustration and bit her lip; she should wake him up and say goodnight. She should go back to her dorm and call him tomorrow to thank him again for his help.<p>

But she couldn't. She didn't _want_ to.

Emma swallowed and looked back at him, her eyes greedily raking over his features in the dim light. When they fell on his lips, she licked her own hungrily.

_God, did she want to kiss him again._

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer as she considered it. She reminded herself that if she kissed him, it would probably lead to _other_ activities and if _that_ happened, there would be no going back. So lost in thought, she didn't realize his eyes had opened, that he was _awake_, until his hand was reaching up to cup her face; his thumb running over the apple of her cheek.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured groggily, his accent thick with sleep, and she wondered for a moment if he thought this was a dream.

She was ducking down to kiss him before she even realized what she was doing, stopping herself a hairsbreadth from his lips.

_No going back_, a voice in her head reminded.

She looked at him one last time; his eyes were closed, whether asleep once more or awaiting her kiss, Emma didn't know and she found she didn't care as she leaned in the rest of the way and pressed her lips against his.

A sigh escaped him as she began to move her lips over his. He returned her kiss after a moment, the hand on her face moving to cup the back of her head and push her harder against his mouth. Emma moaned softly, and fisted her hands in the material of his shirt. Without breaking their kiss, Killian abruptly sat up, his other hand gripping her waist and shifting her until their centers lined up perfectly. They groaned in unison as Emma experimentally shifted in his lap, the thin material of her yoga pants leaving little to the imagination; she could already feel the bulge growing in his jeans. She ground down hard onto him and gasped at the friction. Killian look advantage of the situation, slipping his tongue in her mouth to tangle with hers.

It took a few tries, but eventually Emma found the right angle and was on the brink quicker than she'd been in years. She her mouth fell open in a loud moan as she came, Killian's hips continuing to move with hers, helping her ride it out. They stilled for a moment as she caught her breath, eyes closed, their foreheads resting against each other. The action took Emma back to the last time this had happened with him, and she swallowed thickly as Killian's pants fanned across her face.

"Are you alright, love," she heard him ask quietly, his fingers toying with the end of her ponytail.

Emma nodded and moved back in to kiss him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth as she continued to grind herself down on him (though now more for his pleasure than for her own). He grunted and kissed her back with equal passion as his hands slipped beneath her t-shirt to caress her sides. She pulled back suddenly, leaving him dazed, and she pulled her shirt over her head before she returned to his mouth.

All those weeks dreaming about him, about _this_. She tried to slow herself down, tried to take her time with him, tried to push down the desire to just _devour_. He was making it difficult though, the way he was dragging his lips down her neck, his stubble tickling her sensitive skin as she fisted a hand in his hair. She whimpered as he worried a bruise onto her neck, marking her as his. His hands stroked her back, leaving goose bumps in their wake, as he mercilessly attacked her neck relishing in the little noises that escaped Emma with every touch of his lips to her skin.

When his mouth reached the swell of her breasts, his hands slid up to unclasp her bra. Emma untangled herself from him long enough to throw the garment across the room. Her head fell back in ecstasy as his mouth closed around her peaked nipple, his hand fondling the other. She sighed and returned her hand to his hair as his mouth and hand switched places, continuing to thrust her clothed hips into his. Killian kissed his way back up her chest and neck and attacked her lips with his once again, his hands settling on her hips to push her down into his hardness.

Killian pulled away when breathing became necessary, biting idly at Emma's bottom lip as they caught their breath, his hands still rocking her hips down onto his.

"Bedroom," Emma whispered breathlessly, looping her arms around his neck.

Killian nodded wordlessly, shifting to the edge of the couch, a half-naked Emma still perched on his lap. He grabbed her thighs as he stood, wrapping her legs around him as he slowly maneuvered them toward his bedroom.

Emma kissed down his neck and up his jaw and nipped at his lips as he walked, giggling lightly every time her ministrations caused him to stumble. Killian nudged the door to his bedroom open with his foot and softly dropped Emma onto his bed, pulling his shirt over his head and unbuttoning his jeans the second his hands were free. Taking the hint, Emma laid back and shuffled out of her own pants, throwing them off to the side, when she felt the bed dip. The meager light from the other room filtered in as Emma's eyes adjusted to the darkness; she watched as Killian languorously crawled toward where she lay on the bed, still clad in his boxers. He settled over her a moment later, his body rubbing against hers, the friction causing them both to moan and the fire in her belly to burn hotter than ever.

This wasn't like the last time; that had been sloppy, with too many clothes and not nearly enough skin. Emma whined as Killian fell into the cradle of her thighs, grinding his clothed hips into hers, the hair on his chest dragging deliciously across her nipples with every flick of his hips. Emma ran her hands up his arms as they held him above her, over his strong shoulders, and down the lean muscle of his back. She dug her nails into him and moaned as her second orgasm washed over her.

Intending to remedy Killian's lack of completion, Emma dragged her hands down his back until they met the edge of his underwear. She made quick work of pushing them down his hips, shoving them off completely with her feet. She met his eyes in the dim light as she took him in her hand, squeezing him gently and causing him to groan. He buried his face in her neck, just as he had the last time, as she slowly stroked him. She ran her thumb over the head and he growled as his hips stuttered.

"Emma," he whispered as he rose to meet her eyes, his voice sounding almost pained, "_Please_."

Emma kissed him softly as she released him. He kissed her back, giving himself a moment to come back down, and then pulled away.

"Hold on," he said, rolling away from her and opening a drawer by his bed. She heard a crinkle as packaging was ripped open and realized he was putting on a condom (something they'd neglected to use in their previously drunken states).

Emma shifted and removed her panties before moving slightly up the bed. Killian was above her again a second later, wrapping her leg around his waist and lining himself up. His eyes met hers as he waited for her permission. She nodded and reached up to pull his mouth down to hers as he slowly pushed into her warmth.

She didn't have to ask him to move this time; he allowed himself to revel in the feeling of filling for a moment, but seconds later he was pulling back and quickly snapping his hips back to meet hers. They fell into a rhythm as she met him thrust for thrust, one hand clutching his back, the other threading through the strands of his hair. Their moans and the erotic sound of skin slapping skin filled the silence of Killian's apartment as the two of them chased their releases. Killian stiffened suddenly as he came, one hand on Emma's hip, the other gripping her now loose ponytail.

When Emma felt as though he'd recovered enough, she flipped him onto his back and sunk down onto him once more, bracing herself with her hands on his chest as his came to rest on her hips. Killian trailed a hand up her torso and palmed her breast as she began to move. Emma whimpered in delight at the angle, which had him hitting that special spot inside of her with almost every push of his hips. She rode him mercilessly, her breasts bouncing with the force of their thrusts. Sensing she was close, Killian wove his hand between them and circled her clit, causing Emma to moan loudly. Her hips stuttered and her walls fluttered around him as she came, still riding Killian for all he was worth, before stilling and falling bonelessly onto his chest.

Killian wrapped an arm around her middle, holding her body against his, as his other hand slid into her hair and freed it from the confines of its tie. Emma's hair spread around her like a halo as she lay sprawled on Killian's chest trying to catch her breath.

Killian kissed the top of her head and buried his fingers in her hair as Emma shifted so she could look at him.

"That was—" she began breathlessly.

"Definitely _not_ a one-time thing," he finished, smiling affectionately down at her.

Emma laughed and rose a hand to his face, ghosting her fingers over the scar on his cheek. "I think you meant a two-time thing."

"However you say it, _darling_, we are mostly definitely doing that again. Several times, perhaps," Killian replied in mock annoyance before bringing his lips to hers once more.

The logical part of her brain tried to remind her that she still had a paper to write. She pushed the thought aside, reminding the logical part of herself that all work and no play tends to result in nervous break downs. Effectively silencing her thoughts, for tonight at least, Emma allowed herself a smile (a smile which she promptly hid in Killian's neck).


End file.
